Diffusion
by cumbersmut
Summary: #SherlockSeason3Spoilers Sherlock and John are in the abandoned rail cart, but neither of them can figure out how to diffuse a bomb. Will everything work out in the end? Rated T for Language


"Do you mean to tell me that the whole compartment… is a bomb?" John stood in awe while Sherlock furiously ripped the seat cushions out to reveal hundreds of blinking lights and wires. Sherlock stepped closer to John, attempting to grab another cushion, but hesitated as the floor of the car started to wobble slightly. Sherlock stepped back again and pulled up the metal board, revealing the control box for the bomb. John threw his hands up in the air. "Well, this is fucking brilliant. Did you at least call the cops? The bomb squad?" he asked, nerves taking over his voice as his partner stared blankly back at him. "…No. I didn't feel the need. They wouldn't have made it in time anyways." Sherlock added, getting down on his knees to observe the controls a little closer. He ruffled his thick black curls and observed each element carefully. All of a sudden, the lights of the car flickered on, and so did the timer. "Oh no, oh no no no no no!" Sherlock yelled, frantically searching the controls for a way to stop the timer. John's face went white. He turned from Sherlock and looked back down the dark, empty railway. He thought of Mary. He spun around quickly and picked Sherlock up to his feet. "Well, do you know how to diffuse it?" John panicked a bit, trying to keep calm under pressure he wasn't used to after these past 2 years. Sherlock started to stutter, "N-No, John, I don't know how!" John rubbed his head; the continuous beep of the timer was giving him a headache. "Mind Palace!" he finally blurted out, and Sherlock looked confused for a second. "Go to your mind palace, Sherlock!" Sherlock looked crossly back at him, "I doubt its-" he was cut off by John again, "You have all sorts of useless facts stored away in there, bomb-diffusing has got to be in there somewhere!" "Well," Sherlock started, but decided it wasn't wise to put up an argument when they possibly only had two minutes left. "Maybe." He muttered, before plunging deep into his mind palace for the knowledge he needed to save the lives of them and the whole British Parliament. After a rigorous few minutes of self inflicted pain from searching so deeply in his memory, he found nothing. A silent stare was shared between the two men, resulting in Sherlock dropping back down to his knees to look at the controls again. "Nothing, John. I have nothing." Sherlock spoke softly, while John was barely muttering something, "No, no, no, no, this is a trick. Another one of your bloody tricks. You're just trying to make me say something nice. It's just to make you look good even though you've behaved like…" Sherlock looked up at John, who was staring off into space thinking of Mary, and their future that was most likely never going to happen. He looked back to Sherlock when he heard him yell the words, "Run." John stood still, though. "Sherlock, even if I did run, I'd never make it far enough to survive. There are people's lives at stake; do you even care about that?" Sherlock put his hands together and thought about everything that's happened in the past few days. "I'm sorry, John. I'm so sorry, so so sorry." John couldn't even finish asking Sherlock what he was going on about before he continued. "John, if I had never taken you down here with me, If I had never brought you back into this. I'm sorry. You could have had a future, with Mary, but you won't be able to and it's all my fault. Forgive me John. Forgive me for all the hurt I have caused you." Sherlock asked, sitting on the floor of the cart, the lights flickering and the timer getting dangerously close to its destination time. Sherlock stood up and stepped carefully over the controls, inches away from John. John took a deep breath; he remembered their first case together. He remembered the swimming pool incident. He remembered the Fall. He remembered the torturing two years of grieving. He remembered the past few days. John looked up at Sherlock. Subconsciously, John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck and kissed him. He forgot all about Mary, and the wedding, and the detonating bomb for a moment. All he wanted to think about was Sherlock's lips on his own. He wrapped his fingers in Sherlock's perfect curls and pulled him in even closer, while Sherlock slowly wrapped his own hands around _his_ army doctor's waist. John pulled back after a few seconds, staring Sherlock in the face. John whispered, "Look, I find it difficult, I find it difficult, this kind of stuff." Sherlock replied with a small smile and a 'I know..' before John continued. "..You were the best and the wisest man I have ever known, so yes, of course I forgive you." John wrapped his arms tighter and pulled Sherlock in for another small kiss, tears streaming down Sherlock's face. "I know this may sound stupid, but… I love you, Sherlock Holmes. Even though you can be a complete bastard sometimes. And other times you can be so bloody annoying with your deductions and your smart-ass remarks, and- where was I going with this?" John asked. Evidentially, it brought a smile to Sherlock's face. Sherlock grabbed John by the shoulders and looked deep into his eyes, and smiled. He quickly let go and turned away, starting to laugh. "Wh-What's so funny?" John asked, a tad bit of anger and frustration in his voice. Sherlock gently tapped his foot on the timer, which was now balancing between twenty-nine and thirty seconds. "So you did know how?" John asked, slightly confused and less angered then before. "There was an off switch, John. Every bomb has an off switch. For if the terrorist got into a situation, there would be some pretty sticky business without an off switch." Sherlock chuckled, grabbing John's hand and walking him toward the exit. The bright flashlights of oncoming police officers were almost blinding. "And you did call the police…" John added, "Of course I did, John. I'm not stupid." Sherlock held John's hand as they made their way out of the tunnel. John stopped and looked up at Sherlock again. "I meant what I said back there, Sherlock Holmes." He tried to sound almost cross, but it didn't work out well. Sherlock laughed a little and started walking again, flipping his coat collar up. "I know."


End file.
